


Oh Baby I Love Your Way

by Silverfern500



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Video Game 2018), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Divorce, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfern500/pseuds/Silverfern500
Summary: Peter B Parker returned from Miles' dimension with new determination. He hadn't been ready to be a father, and he wasn't able to save his previous marriage, but he was able to gain shared custody of his daughter. And get his life -somewhat- together. That's when he ran across Guns on the parents-without-partners site.Wade, now settled with Ellie, was also divorced and seeking. He just didn't know what he was in for when he showed up for his first date with Mr. MultidimensionalNerd.





	Oh Baby I Love Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> This is another bingo prompt, this time Divorce. I had fun with it. Watch out for new bingo stories!

It was a long time coming, honestly. Not something that couldn't be repaired, per se, but something he finally had the self preservation to admit he didn't _want_ repaired. Still, divorce was messy. He got the glittering guns, she the gold. She the house in the Hamptons, he the kid.

That was five years ago

* * *

The smell of the tavern was musty. It reeked of B.O. And electricity and dust. Gaming cafes were often that way, if the food was passable enough not to drive you out, the smell would. Unless you were one of the few absorbed in a game of Magic or at one of the old Robo-Cop arcade machines. Suffice to say, it wasn't his kind of dive. He'd rather his own home - cluttered though it may be - an old cop show on his TV and that spunky 10-year-old bouncing on the couch. Ellie, currently at home being baby-sat by Preston. He cocked his head in thought, sitting in the torn red booth at Sip-And-Game. No, it was definitely better not to meet at his house.

Wade obviously hadn't picked this location for his first date with MultidimensionalNerd.

Ever since they'd started chatting on the parents-without-partners site back in May, Wade had been interested in that username. Then he'd been interested in the man's self-depreciating and nihilistic jokes, then those salacious pics (face cropped out). Then it was October.

Mr. MultidimensionalNerd (P. Parker as he learned), worked a demanding job like Wade. Though he never told him of what nature, and Wade never asked. Wade didn't say he was a mercenary either (although all hero-type jobs these days). So the months seemed to just fly by. Until two days ago, when Parker had messaged him out of the blue demanding to meet.

MMN: Tuesday. Sip-And-Game on Thompson. 7pm.

MG: You really want to meet my ugly mug?

MMN: Yeah. You keep saying how bad it is, I need proof.

MG: Another scientific venture of yours?

MMN: I'm up to study anything of yours, MrGuns

MG: ….I looked them up, they don't even serve tacos!!! Baby boy, you're buying.

MMN: Only if you stop calling me that.

MG: I wish I had a unicorn but that's not happening either, sunshine.

And then there Wade was. Nervously picking apart a napkin in his lap as he tried not to obviously stare at the tavern's front door (he was seated near the back, facing all exits. Tactics). In his peripheral, Wade noticed the gal running the hostess desk. Short hair, baggy t-shirt. Definitely a gamer herself (type-casting??? _Profiling_ ). The old arcade machines in the right corner of the room. Old. Some, Wade had even played himself. When he was younger and not... destroyed and re-made into this, _this_... Maybe it was a bad idea to come, after all. Wade tried not to spiral into self-depreciating thoughts, because that's what his therapist told him to do. To stave off those nasty voices in his head. He'd taught himself how to wall them off, how to send their input into the void, but sometimes they broke through. And oh, they were breaking through now.

' _You're used up, has been, divorced, wife didn't even want cha', what makes you think anyone else will?_ ' One voice would say, and then the next went something like ' _it's okay, you were meant to be alone anyway. It's great alone. Nobody tells you how to live your life! Nobody has to come home to your fucked up face_.' and then, ' _except your daughter, of course._ '

Wade groaned. Finally, giving up on his vigilant surveillance of the place, he dropped his head into his arms upon the table. Miserable, he wondered if he was being stood up. Part of him hoped he had been. Then he could just go home and pretend the potential of the night was just sour grapes (Aesop fables. Good morals).

But that wasn't the case. A strong, sweet voice from beside him warmly said, “is this seat taken?” and when Wade's head shot up, he sucked in a breath. There, standing, was the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid eyes on. Spank bank material. Sure, guy wasn't in his prime. Wasn't as lean as his muscles suggested he once was. But he still looked mouth watering. Familiar, from pictures, yeah, but together with seeing his face for the first time, stubble and bags under the eyes and all.... When Wade didn't respond, the guy said “MG, I take it?” and with a shrug, dropped into the booth opposite Wade.

Wade's mouth opened, closed. “Parker?” He hazarded. There was no way. No. Way. Just like there was no way he'd added Mr. in front of his online name 'Guns' just because Parker had Mr. in front of his.

“Peter” Peter shrugged, before snagging a chip from the chip basket on the table. When had Wade ordered those? _Had_ Wade ordered those? He couldn't remember. The whole time he'd been in that awful tavern was kind of a blur.

Wade swallowed, shoulders stiffening as he gave a slight nod and reached for a chip, himself. “Wade” he said, mouth full. “Get here alright?”

\---

In fact, Peter had 'gotten there alright'. He'd even taken the subway and not used webs, thanks. It had been hard not to, as after his run-in with Miles and the gang, he had gotten used to flying again. But after MJ... after Morgan, after getting back from the other dimension and gaining shared custody.... He had to be careful. Instead of all that, he just mashed out “yeah, thanks” between chips.

It should have been gross, the way Peter ate, but Wade loved how casual the man was being. It settled his nerves considerably. “So, what do you recommend?” He asked, gesturing to the menu in front of him.

Peter's eyebrow raised. “Uh, the nachos are always good,” he supplied. Surprised when Wade's eyes widened at his words. To tell the truth, Peter had been nervous as hell setting up this date. But he was tired of being the lazy bum he had been when he'd met Miles. He had had to clean up for the days he had his daughter, had taken up patrolling again, worked a dead-end 9-5, but what of his personal life? After months of looking forward to texts from the eclectic 'MG', Peter had had enough. Either it ended, or they met and got things moving. It kind of – Peter cocked his head as Wade enthusiastically ordered the chicken nachos – seemed like things were moving forward.

“I'll have the double swiss burger,” he said hastily as their waitress turned to him, eyes barely leaving Wade's face as he did so. When Wade turned back and caught him looking, at least Peter had the decency to feel embarrassed.

“So,” Peter asked, as they lapsed into a short silence. “What games do you know?” Peter knew too many, in the recent past having had too much free time and boredom, getting his ass kicked in Magic by kids. So he was grateful when Wade sheepishly (sheepishly? The guy's huge, _how_?) mumbled out 'battleship?'

Battleship. Wade couldn't think of anything else as Peter stared him down with those deep, brown eyes. Would the guy be disappointed? Sure, Wade was a disappointment, but he really hoped for a miracle this time....

Wade hadn't expected the slow, fond smile that spread across Peter's face. Or the way his voice softened as he replied, “yeah, battleship's great”

\---

A few minutes later saw the pair of them with cases set in front of them on the table. Peter, tongue out in concentration as he studied the top of his case. Wade leaned back in his booth, a smug smile on his lips as he watched Peter.  
  
“B7,” Peter finally said. Sure that would get Wade's last little two-space ship. His face fell as Wade's smile widened, not faltering even a little bit.

Wade leaned forward, over his case. It sent a tentative heat through Peter's stomach, to be honest. “Miss!” Wade said, and then the moment was over, and he was sitting back, arms crossed in triumph. Then, Wade's eyes landed on something behind Peter's shoulder, and he said “oh look, our food!”

Just like the fool he was, Peter actually turned his head to look. Just barely seeing the movement in his peripheral vision, of Wade moving his last ship to a new position on his board. “Ah-ha!” He cried, whipping back around. Wade stilled, hand still on the ship, that sheepish look back.

Wade kept still. It was comical, really. “Ahh,” he said, “But honey, it's not what it looks like.”

Huh? Peter thought. But he rolled with it. “Yeah right. You always cheat! That's it, I knew it was a good decision to divorce you.” Let Wade come up with some charade to match _that_ , huh?

Match it, Wade did, though it had thrown him for his own loop. “Sweetums, please, give me a chance,” He pleaded, mockingly. “You can't just throw ten years down the drain!” And he threw his hands out. They were garnering some attention, now.

Luckily, they had played just long enough for their food to _actually_ arrive. Peter audibly groaned as his burger was set in front of him, forgetting the game. It almost distracted Wade from the sight of his nachos. Almost. A slightly awed side-glance at Peter. But then _those nachos_! Loaded with olives – _yes_ , Jalapenos – oh double yes, lots of greasy, cheap chicken – _now_ _ **that**_ _was the spot_. Wade loaded a cheesy chip and had it half-way to his mouth when he dropped it. Eyes widening, Wade watched as Peter licked his fingertips, burger no more than a smear near his lip. “Wow, honey, you have an appetite.” he murmured. Not expecting Peter to hear.

Peter, of course, did hear. Noticing that he still had company, he tilted his head. Eyes narrowing, Peter fronted a hiss. “That's because I'm _expecting_. You ass.

Mouth hanging open, Wade eyed Peter's totally-serious-face, and then the man's slightly round midsection. “What is it?” He asked, dumb-struck. It wasn't often that his date was crazier than him. _Crazy_ , yes. Crazier than _Deadpool_? No.  
  
And that smug look Peter shot him next was just not fair. “Premium grade beef with swiss and mushroom on a toasted bun.” Peter preened, and then he doubled over laughing. Unaware of how cute he looked, filled with mirth.

Wade wiped a tear from his eye. “I love you.” he said, completely serious.

Peter just scoffed, “but you're still a cheater,” he said, eyeing the discarded battleship cases, before looking Wade in the eye. “I'm still divorcing you.” and he shook his head. Glancing at Wade just once, again, seeing if he'd gone too far.

But Wade's leer was predatory when he leaned forward, and said. “Give me another chance.”

* * *

And 360 chances later, Wade was the one who got to send out the save-the-dates.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Sip-and-Game here based on AFK Tavern in Washington, and placed where the actual place The Uncommons is in Manhattan
> 
> Phew that's three bingo prompts down, one to edit, and Bulge Kink to start. The charade continues!!!


End file.
